


How Balaam's donkey began to speak

by Aranel125



Category: Cinderella Phenomenon (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24354820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aranel125/pseuds/Aranel125
Summary: Humour. Hildyr always kept Myth under her foot... but one day, even a man with such a patience will have enough. And he has enough imagination to find a way to both have a day off and give a memorable day to Her Royal Majesty.(This was posted earlier for the fellow fans on Dicesuki Discord, but I am posting it now here as well.)
Kudos: 6





	How Balaam's donkey began to speak

Queen Hildyr was in a very bad mood.  
And there were more than enough reasons for it.  
Firstly, her poor excuse of a husband. Hildyr’s mood spoiled every time she saw this scarecrow on the throne, but that needed to be counted with: by some misconception the law of Angielle stated that he is the ruling king in here, not her. Well, de facto Hildyr ruled anyway… but it was still unpleasant.  
Secondly, these damned Widdensovs. If it was as she liked, Hildyr would have sent them long ago somewhere far enough… maybe to the place from where people don’t come back. But Myth had convinced her that it would be “a much more profitable move” to keep them in palace.  
She kept them, yes. That Ophelia woman was supposed to give the queen her shoes in mornings. (Normally Hildyr would not memorize a maid’s name, but this one was a very special case). And this very morning this woman was a whole minute slower than she was supposed to be.  
Thirdly, Lucette. Instead of welcoming her only and dear mother with all appropriate love and respect, soon after Hildyr’s “resurrection” the ungrateful girl simply… escaped the palace! And went, as the queen suspected, straight to the people Hildyr’s opinion on whom consisted solely of words not meant for publishing.  
And finally, this… this one.  
\- My queen, this matter requires your attention.  
Hildyr lowered her glass.  
\- What?  
Myth coughed.  
\- Your Majesty, I had a look at the dynamics of wheat harvest in the central regions and dare to say…  
Hildyr slammed her glass against the table.  
\- Are you mocking me? Where is my daughter, I wanted to know!  
The advisor bowed.  
\- Your Majesty, my men are searching for Her Highness, but when the results will be…  
\- Enough! – the queen of Angielle hissed. – Are you capable at least at anything?  
\- My queen…  
\- Not going to listen! I am starting to regret exiling Waltz!  
The man shook.  
\- You value the traitor more than me?  
\- At least he spoke normal language! Dynamics of harvest! To hell the dynamics of harvest! Why am I still tolerating you?  
The man stirred, but controlled himself.  
Hildyr was not going to be silent.  
\- To hell you and your papers, Myth! To hell the Widdensov cow! To hell my pathetic husband! Why can’t you all clear away from my eyes?  
\- Your Majesty…  
\- Silence! Away from here, now and for all tomorrow day! Don’t you dare to show yourself before me, you good-for-nothing man, before I once curse you into a mouse! Out!  
The man’s eyes gleamed, yet he restrained himself.  
\- Out, I say!  
The man pressed his lips together and bowed. Very slowly.  
\- As you wish, my queen.  
He turned on heels and left.  
\- Rascal, - Hildyr gnarled. – Leaving a queen’s presence in so fast a pace!  
***  
The next morning, Hildyr woke up and called for her maid.  
One, two, five minutes passed, but Ophelia did not come.  
“At least I finally have an excuse to get rid of her”, - Hildyr thought, putting on her shoes herself.  
She was going to dress up as well, but her gown was nowhere to be found.  
Hildyr rang the bell again.  
No response.  
Still in nightgown, Hildyr came out of her chambers.  
She crossed a big hall, but did not see any guards.  
“I knew it all the time, - the queen thought. – My worthless husband never inspired discipline in his servants. Fine, I will have one or two words with him.”  
And Genaro will be lucky if it is going to be a curse in the casual sense, not in the magical one.  
She stood by the door of king’s chambers.  
Unguarded.  
“Well, I will not cry if someone once cuts his throat at night, - she thought. – Yet it will inspire people wrong ideas on how to treat royalty. I would better not follow his fate in such a case.”  
She knocked at the door.  
No response.  
She took the door’s handle.  
Locked.  
\- Genaro, dear, I will have your head if you will not open.  
Silence.  
Hildyr used a spell to open the lock.  
Magic did not obey her!  
The queen panicked for a moment.  
\- Must be from hunger, - she decided. – It is breakfast time.  
She walked through all the palace to the dining hall and did not see a living soul in process.  
Only a sparrow was leaping over the royal table, picking crumbs left by a careless servant yesterday.  
\- Shoo! – said Hildyr.  
The bird adjusted its feathers and flew away.  
Hildyr crossed her arms on her chest.  
Did her husband finally escaped her?  
***  
And here is what happened to King Genaro.  
He woke up from a cool breeze and realized that he was lying in a green lawn. Just several steps away the garden fence of the palace grounds was rising, and behind it were visible the castle towers.  
Curled at his side, slept Ophelia, Rod and Emelaigne. Some distance away, reposing were the fairest ladies of the court – Duchess Rosalie, Countess Amalie and Marchioness Cecile. Near, leaning on their halberds, dozed the two guards appointed yesterday to a shift by the royal chambers doors.  
And around them there was ten… twenty… at least fifty people, all courtiers and palace servants.  
Genaro brushed his eyes, then lightly nudged Ophelia.  
\- Darling…  
She stirred, rose and gasped.  
\- Darling, where are we?  
\- By the gates, I suppose, - Genaro slowly answered. – But why we are here?  
Emelaigne, awakened by their voices, jumped on her feet and squeaked.  
Rod opened his eyes, yawned, pulled Sebby out of the nearby bush and wondered:  
\- What, excuse me, the hell?  
\- Oh, Your Royal Highness, - sighed Marchioness Cecile, half-asleep, - what kind of lexicon you are using!  
Not even five minutes passed when Genaro was surrounded by a very anxious crowd.  
\- What is happening, Your Majesty? What are we going to do?  
In extreme situations King Genaro seemed to discover a second breath. And it definitely was an extreme situation.  
\- Follow me, - he said, rising on his feet.  
Soon they were standing under the locked gate.  
\- Guards, - Genaro said, - who has the key from this gate?  
One soldier came forward and handed the key to the king with a respectful bow.  
Genaro attempted to open the lock.  
But somehow the key and the lock never came to contact.  
Genaro never had shaking hands, so he looked at the key in surprise.  
It didn’t help much.  
The guards parted, making way for Sir Alcaster.  
\- Your Majesty, you are using the wrong methods, - the head knight bent his head. And added silently: “As always”. – Let me.  
He walked to the gate and attempted to open it with his hands.  
Normally Sir Alcaster’s large hands would have bended a metal bar easily, but the delicate outline of the gate resisted.  
Sir Alcaster tried again, with no different result.  
Not showing any embarrassment, the head knight stepped aside.  
\- I did not think it is going to work, either, - he said just in case. – You, - he growled at the nearest-standing guard, - climb the fence.  
The soldier obeyed, but, as he was going to swing his leg to the opposite side, he met an invisible wall.  
\- I cannot, sir, - he said, jumping to the ground. – It must be some kind of magic.  
Alcaster scratched his chin.  
\- Just as I thought, - he said.  
Ophelia looked at Genaro:  
\- Darling, what are we going to do?  
The king raised his head.  
\- We are going to have an emergency council.  
***  
Hildyr was hungry.  
Nowhere – nowhere! – in the palace she did not found anything edible. Her dress was not found, either.  
“Wonder to what kind of a picnic my rag of a husband has gone? – the queen of Angielle was thinking. – And why exactly they needed my dress?”  
She stopped on her tracks. To forget that she is a witch…!  
She waved her hand regally, wishing for a cup of tea.  
Nothing happened.  
Once she could have failed a spell – but twice in a row?  
Hildyr waved her hand again.  
Nothing.  
“No one is to be trusted, - she thought gloomily. – Even me!”  
From the positive side, no one was getting into view. No her wretched husband… no Widdensov cow… no annoying knights… no this miserable Myth.  
Somehow he happened to always pop up like a Jack out of the box every time she ever thought of him. But now he was not seen anywhere.  
Suddenly a sheet of paper on a windowsill caught Hildyr’s attention.  
She picked it up.  
In the accurate handwriting of her advisor, the note was saying:  
“Left for a day off, just like you wished. I hope you are enjoying this beautiful morning, my queen.”  
***  
Under the gate…  
\- I want my breakfast, - Countess Amalie said in a miserable tone.  
\- How I would like a roasted dove now! – Duchess Rosalie dreamily rose her eyes.  
\- Dear duchess, - said thoughtfully Marchioness Cecile, - are not these doves?  
She pointed at a flock of grey pigeons nearby.  
\- They are not roasted, - the duchess argued reasonably.  
\- If I had a slingshot, - Prince Rod said slowly.  
\- A slingshot? What it is?  
\- A tool used to throw stones. – The prince furrowed. – I had one as a child.  
Duchess Rosalie raised her hand to her face:  
\- Throwing stones, how inelegant!  
\- Poor Prince Rod! – Countess Amalie supported her. – How do they live in lowly classes!  
Rod glared:  
\- I thought you wanted to catch a bird for breakfast?  
\- Speaking of slingshots, - nearby standing Fritz tried to loosen the atmosphere, - I think the best ones are made of willow…  
He bit his tongue and fell silent.  
\- You, Sir Fritzgerald! – exclaimed the Countess. – Did you also have a slingshot as a child?  
Judging by how brightly the knight blushed, the answer was “yes”.  
\- I… I don’t think we need any slingshots now, - Princess Emelaigne broke the silence. – Let’s better listen to the emergency council.  
\- …So, any suggestions? – King Genaro was asking. – Homeless kings are completely out of Angiellian traditions.  
Not long time ago Angielle had seen a homeless princess, but Rod preferred not to remind.  
Sir Alcaster was gloomily looking at the king.  
“Technically, Hildyr or no Hildyr, but Genaro is the official king, - he was thinking. – Maybe having a favour before him could be of use. Who knows how long that woman will rule!”  
He certainly wasn’t going to miss his lucky chance.  
\- Your Majesty, while we are looking for the way to return to the palace, I would like to offer to you my humble house.  
\- I am grateful, good sir, - Genaro said heartedly.  
Alcaster swelled from pride.   
***  
Old John, one of the very few servants in the Leverton house, has seen many things in his life. But these did not include a hoard of hungry and agitated aristocrats on the doorstep, led by the king in person. So, when his master growled to “provide these ladies and gentlemen with accommodation, food and everything”, old John most shamefully fainted.  
\- He doesn’t like guests? – Princess Emelaigne asked confusedly.  
Sir Alcaster quickly found a response:  
\- It is from great joy.  
***  
However, an hour later the head knight started to feel in a way he was close to joining his servant in his great joy. Or, even better, strangling someone.  
“These ladies and gentlemen are not going to leave a piece of bread in my household! – he thought. – Positively, dictatorship is the only way to deal with them!”  
After everyone (well, almost everyone) was fed and everyone content (well, mostly content), King Genaro reopened the emergency council.  
\- Friends, - he went straight to the topic, - how can we get back my house?  
“How can I get back MY house? – Sir Alcaster thought grimly. – And how can I get yours as well?”  
\- There clearly is magic involved, - the king continued. – Does anyone here has an acquaintance among the witches?  
Alcaster stirred uncomfortably.  
\- Father, - Fritz suddenly said, - you were good friends with Sir Mythros, right? Before Queen Hildyr returned. Maybe he can help us after you have invited him to tea so often?  
Alcaster’s glares quickly became murderous.  
\- Speaking of Sir Mythros, - Ophelia asked, - where is he?  
Everyone shrugged their shoulders.  
No one of them had seen this man today.  
\- We will manage without any witches. – Alcaster hurried to change the subject. – We can send someone to look better for a way to enter the palace grounds. Maybe there is some hole, some spot that is not enchanted. And if you don’t object, Your Majesty, I will go.  
Genaro nodded:  
\- We should consider this possibility.  
When outdoors, Alcaster sighed with relief.  
***  
Followed by two guards, Alcaster walked along the garden fence.  
The second palace gate was locked as well.  
One of the guards tried to touch the lock, but in vain.  
\- Why do I need you fools? – Alcaster growled quietly.  
Walking several steps aside, he leaned irritatedly on the fence.  
His elbow met empty space.  
The knight looked in surprise.  
The fence bars were opened wide enough to allow a man inside.  
Somehow it seemed that a minute ago the fence was complete.  
But Alcaster quickly overcome the confusedness.  
\- See, fools, - he cried at the amazed guards, - I found an entrance from first sight! Stay here, you.  
He climbed the hole and was now standing in palace gardens.  
His soul was singing.  
Angielle was bound to call him a hero.  
The sir had not noticed that right after he came in, the hole in the fence closed on its own.  
***  
For a long time Myth did not have a day so pleasant.  
He was now working on his study which was bound to be appreciated in appropriate circles. The book was titled Wannabe Dictators: a Guide on their Exploitation, and personally dedicated to Mr. A. Leverton, who, as the introduction said, “was of crucial importance for the research”. (Myth was far too polite to call Mr. A. Leverton directly object of the research.)  
It was a pity he could not watch what was happening in the palace now.  
The idea was quite simple, like genial ideas always are: he knew a certain mineral which, subjected to a certain reaction, would provide a field where using magic was blocked – even if you are the Tenebrarum Bearer herself. All he needed to do was firstly to transport away the king and the others, to get rid of some things as a bonus, then to activate the stones carefully hidden within the palace, and upon leaving to cast right on the border of the no-magic territory a barrier to keep people away. That barrier woild open only for him – and for one specific person, who was allowed in, but not out.  
If things went the lucky way, Sir Alcaster was also having a nice time.  
***  
Let us face the facts: Queen Hildyr’s mood was very bad.  
Walking through the gardens, she paid close attention at the berries on some bushes, but remembered in time that they are growing here for decorative purpose and are not bound to be edible.  
For the greatest queen in Angiellian history, dying from an accidental poisoning would be too non-epic.  
She eventually returned to the palace and, to distract herself from thinking of food, started to decide what she will do with Genaro once he returns. She had already invented forty-six possible variants… when she remembered she cannot use magic.  
She started to watch the gardens from her balcony.  
A movement, too big to be a bird, attracted her eye.  
Out of the bushes came out… what was this knight’s name? Hildyr remembered that Myth talked quite much of him at some point, referring him mostly as “this animal with a crowbar”.  
Hildyr bent over the balcony balustrade:  
\- Hey, you! Sir animal!  
Alcaster raised his eyes in surprise.  
Seeing the great queen, the Tenebrarum Bearer, the terror of Angielle, in a nightgown was an… exotic sight.  
Her expression meant no good, and Alcaster did not want to be turned into a lizard or something. So he bent his head:  
\- What do you wish, Your Majesty?  
\- Where. Is. My. Husband? – Hildyr hissed.  
\- His Majesty is safe and sound, resting currently in my house, - Alcaster replied humbly.  
Hildyr let out a wail.  
\- When I get him…!  
She stopped, unable to choose from the forty-six possibilities.  
She rushed to the stairs and soon was standing next to Alcaster, arms folded.  
\- Well?  
\- Eh… what, Your Majesty?  
\- Am I supposed to go out like this? Get me something to wear!  
Alcaster started feverishly thinking.  
His eyes fell on a palm tree planted nearby.  
\- Your Majesty… I had heard that in some countries, palm leaf clothes are considered the highest fashion.  
Soon, Queen Hildyr in a brand new gown of palm leaves decisively approached the gate.  
As Alcaster suspected, it did not open.  
Hildyr’s eyebrows met:  
\- How did you get in, then?  
Alcaster looked around for the hole and found none.  
He thought that Hildyr will erase this fence to dust, but for some reason she didn’t do it.  
\- Fine, - she snorted, - I will not be running around for Genaro. I will wait until he comes home himself. Sir animal!  
Alcaster carefully nodded.  
\- Get me breakfast, sir, and the faster the better!  
***  
Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the Leverton house, also known as the temporal residence of the homeless court, was getting more tense.  
Firstly, some of the high lords and ladies did not find enough chairs and had to sit on floor, which did not please them at all.  
Secondly, what could be eaten was already eaten.  
Thirdly, Sir Alcaster still had not returned, and the guards who accompanied him could reasonably explain nothing.  
Fourthly, Fritz was also absent. The king and the others did not know that several streets away, a black-clad young man was pacing the street back and forth, hissing under his breath:  
\- If I spend a minute more with those morons… No, blondie, you are not going there! What do you mean by “duty of hospitality”? If you don’t need your nerves, I need them!  
The situation in the house was indeed starting to get dangerous for nerves, and when Princess Emelaigne announced worriedly that Rod also is nowhere to be found, some duke whispered very clearly:  
\- Rats are fleeing the sinking boat…  
***  
Meanwhile at the Marchen, Delora was enjoying a cup of tea, when a downcast Rod appeared on doorstep.  
\- Guys, - he said, - the royalty of Angielle needs help.  
Delora bid farewell to her plans on this afternoon, listened to the story, grabbed the elbow of nearby-sitting Karma (he had nothing else to do anyway) and went to the rescue.  
***  
\- More… guests?  
Old John fainted again.  
\- I am accustomed to people overreacting to my beauty, - Karma muttered, - but this is a bit too much…  
***  
Sir Alcaster always knew that fear motivates.  
But until this day he had no idea how much.  
He already made for Hildyr a list of potentially edible plants in the royal gardens, obtained several bird nests (she definitely was not going to prick her hands!) and currently was trying to fish in a fountain.  
The well-fed goldfish watched this strange man lazily and did not hurry to his hook.  
Hildyr stood behind at first, but then it bored her, so she was busy making from improvised means some ornaments to go well with her new attire.  
Her spirits had noticeably risen.  
Alcaster did not know she was deprived of her powers, and she had preferred to ignore the subject.  
Everything was ruined by a magpie.  
Hildyr had put her necklace on the fountain pavement next to her when suddenly there was a whirl of feathers, agile claws, and the fancy object was gone.  
The queen jumped on feet and, forgetting herself from anger, raised her hand.  
The magpie made a circle in the air, perched on a branch of the closest tree and looked down with its gleaming eyes, stolen necklace still in its beak.  
Hildyr choked with anger.  
\- Get down!  
The bird chirred mockingly and flew off.  
Red as a tomato, the great queen turned around… and found herself nose-to-nose with Alcaster.  
With a VERY unamused Alcaster.  
\- Your Majesty, - said the man coolly, folding his arms, - why a bird causes you so much trouble?  
Hildyr understood she was in more trouble now.  
\- Have you lost your tricks somewhere, Your Majesty?  
Alcaster made a threatening step forward. Hildyr stepped backwards, got something under her foot and sat almost into the fountain.  
Alcaster gnarled.  
\- Go fishing on your own.  
He turned around and soon disappeared inside the palace.  
***  
Myth was having the time of his life.  
The chapter of all the possible advantages that keeping a Wannabe Dictator under your hand can bring was completed.  
The sunbeams were dancing on drying ink.  
Varg, who was tired form walking around the town but would return home for no money in the world, had finally decided to come to his employer. Myth did not object, but expressed clearly that the youth can stay as long as he makes no noise.  
And he had been quiet for some time…  
But things can never be perfect.  
\- Si-ir?  
It was said in a tone as nasty as possible.  
\- Varg, dear boy, why would not you go… somewhere?  
(Myth was a very polite person.)  
\- Sir, but there is a lady wanting to see you.  
\- Tell her I accept no visitors today.  
\- Sir, but she claims to be one of your kind. And very persistent. And, honestly, I am in no mood for a second curse.  
One of his kind? That was interesting.  
\- Let her in, - the advisor sighed.  
Delora came in in all her effectiveness.  
\- My most cordial greetings, monsieur, - she sang in the sweetest voice.  
\- My most warm felicitations, madame, - Myth replied in a voice even more pleasant.  
Varg understood there was going to be trouble and wisely left.  
\- What is the exact purpose of your visit, madame? – Myth wondered, putting away his inkpot.  
(The detailed description of Wannabe Dictators’ ways in their natural habitat would have to wait.)  
\- Monsieur, - Delora sat into the armchair opposite the advisor, - do you happen to have an explanation, why you are the only one person at the royal court who did not wake under the garden fence today?  
Myth raised an eyebrow.  
\- I was born under a lucky star?  
\- Then will your lucky stars be so kind to explain what is the point of these events?  
Myth sighed.  
\- You must understand me, madame. My job is an extremely harmful one…  
Delora was listening to his story, drumming her fingers against the armrests.  
\- …Tomorrow I am returning to my duties, - the advisor concluded with a not very happy expression. – I am a man of my word, lady. And Her Majesty needs to be fed sometimes, doesn’t she?  
Delora thought a little.  
Then she thought again.  
\- Sir, I understand you have obligations. But the king is not obliged to return to the palace?  
\- I had studied laws of Angielle for years, - Myth nodded. – They say that the king has all the right of changing his dislocation. Yet there is a small detail: have you regarded such a possibility that the noblest lords and ladies will bring the Leverton house down to a pile of bricks?  
\- You are very well informed, sir. May I wonder how?  
\- A secret of the enterprise, - Myth said.  
(The secret of the enterprise stood at the moment behind the door, eavesdropping.)  
\- Do not worry for the Leverton house, - Delora smiled. – We can offer His Majesty a shelter somewhere else.  
Myth smirked.  
\- Does a family member wait for His Majesty there, by any chance?  
Delora winked.  
\- Probably.  
***  
When Delora returned to the Leverton house, it was not yet brought down to a pile of bricks, which was already a good thing.  
It must have been due to Karma, who, happy as a lark, was discussing the latest trends with Duchess Rosalie and Countess Amalie.  
Delora shortly explained the results of her mission.  
\- Thank Heavens, - King Genaro sighed in relief. – I will eagerly give away my palace if it means I don’t have to see Her Majesty again.  
It must have been the only point where Genaro and Hildyr agreed.  
***  
But what was happening in the palace?  
Alcaster was strolling the empty halls with all his dignity.  
He had just realized that the place was completely at his disposal.  
Magic-less Hildyr? Who would consider her? The woman should know her place. And Genaro is far and sees nothing.  
Alcaster went to the throne room.  
Here it was, the royal throne, covered in red velvet.  
Alcaster just could not resist.  
Slowly, solemnly, he approached it and slowly, solemnly sat down.  
Step one of his dreams was fulfilled.  
He sat there for ten minutes. Then for ten more.  
It was starting to get boring.  
What was he going to do as Step two?  
Ah right. To inspire fear in his subjects.  
Alas, there was no one in sight to inspire fear in.  
\- Would you mind to free my throne?  
Behind stood Hildyr, somber as a storm cloud.  
\- That is not yours, - Alcaster noted. – That is technically Genaro’s. And since he is sitting on my chair now, I am going to sit on his. Try to convince me otherwise.  
Hildyr thought a moment for a reply.  
\- Have you not been taught that a gentleman should offer a chair to a lady?  
Alcaster grunted.  
Then he thought a bit and decided that a great leader can show someone a favour when he is in a good mood.  
Since Hildyr was his only subject…  
\- Alright, I am kind today, - he said. – Sit next to me if you like.  
Hildyr tried, but Alcaster was a big man, so she wouldn’t fit on the seat which he occupied, and had to perch herself on an armrest.  
Time passed.  
\- When Genaro comes back, I will scratch his eyes out without any magic, - Hildyr promised to the air.  
Alcaster threw a glance on her.  
\- Maybe we don’t need him coming back as much?  
\- Honestly speaking, right, - the great queen agreed. – I should have divorced him long ago. And marry instead… damn, even that loser Myth would be a better husband!  
\- Why don’t you marry me then? – Alcaster suggested. – As a great leader, I would not mind offering my hand to an equal.  
Hildyr snorted.  
\- I am the head knight, - Alcaster continued dreamily, - I know no fear. I am of noble birth… and not that old yet.  
Hildyr narrowed her eyes lazily:  
\- I will consider this.  
***  
For Varg, sitting quietly indoors turned out to be a task more difficult than tracking down Lucette ten times in a row, and certainly less pleasant. So, in order to kill time the black knight was playing checkers – luckily, an opponent was always there.  
He moved his piece on the board and closed his eyes.  
Moment later, Fritz blinked, frowned at the board and moved a white piece. It went over one black piece, then over another one.  
“Dishonest”, - Varg whispered in his ear.  
“Completely honest. The dishonest thing was when we were playing cards – you saw mine all the game.”  
Fritz closed his eyes.  
Varg raised his hand to make a move… and froze.  
Just before him, stood Her Highness Lucette Riella Britton.  
Honestly, there was no other such a princess in the world.  
And the object she was holding even added to the uniqueness.  
\- I need to see your master, - she said without further ado.  
\- His Excellency accepts no visitors, - Varg muttered.  
\- What, even me?  
The black knight sighed:  
\- You are an exception and you know it.  
***  
When Lucette entered the room, Myth put aside his quill with a quiet groan.  
\- What is the matter again?  
\- You are going to visit the palace today to pass food to Mother, right? – the princess asked.  
The advisor nodded.  
\- Food and clothes, yes.  
\- Then tell her the news she should know. Father has officially announced he divorces her and leaves her his former residence to cover all possible remaining obligations. Also, could you pass her something personally from me?  
The advisor raised his brow:  
\- What kind of thing?  
\- A very useful one. Was of great help for me once.  
Lucette handed the man a broom.  
THE END


End file.
